


breathe for me

by Bumble_Bee_Be



Series: Tumblr Oneshots [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asthmatic Harry Styles, Light Angst, Louis Tomlinson Takes Care of Harry Styles, M/M, MARRIED BABIES, Panic Attacks, Protective Louis Tomlinson, Sick Harry Styles, Sickfic, THEYRE HUSBANDS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumble_Bee_Be/pseuds/Bumble_Bee_Be
Summary: Harry has a bad attack backstage. Cue Louis taking care of his husband.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Tumblr Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015566
Kudos: 101





	breathe for me

**Author's Note:**

> Based off prompts 6 & 13
> 
> I love writing these so much, please send come requests!!! You can find the prompt posting in the first part of this collection, but any requests are welcome!!

Harry’s not entirely sure what happened. He was fine the entire concert. Until the last song. Then something shifted, a festering in his chest that wouldn’t go away, a buzzing under his skin that refused to go away. As they end with Little White Lies, Harry feels his throat closing up, his breaths coming shallower and fast. He barely waves to the screaming crowd before stumbling backstage, one hand pressed to his chest as he tries to suck in breaths, his head spinning.

Harry knows what this is. Well, not exactly. It’s a strange, cruel combination of a panic attack and his asthma acting up, a joint effort that leaves him gasping for air and his heart thumping in his chest. He crumples to the ground the second he reaches the bathroom, not even sure how he made it that far. The anxiety and asthma feed off each other, panic and hysteria crowding out any rational thought as he keels over, tears stinging his eyes. People are rushing around him, but he doesn’t know who.

He can’t identify anyone, all he sees are blurs and bright lights, voices muted and screams echoing in his head. And then bright blue, calming and grounding. A hand on his cheek that he leans in to, chasing the comfort. A soft voice that manages to cut through the haze.

“ _ Harry _ ,” Louis beckons, his voice sharp and demanding, yet gentle and concerned. “Haz, what’s going on? Where does it hurt?”  _ Blueblueblue _ eyes wide with concern, hands all over him, searching for the source of his pain. Harry just shakes his head, a strangled sound coming from the very back of his throat. 

“I can’t- I can’t,” he gasps, begging Louis to understand. Because if  _ Louis _ doesn’t understand, then no one will. And well. Then Harry’s well and truly fucked. But of course Louis does, because Louis always understands Harry. Sometimes even better than Harry understands himself. 

“Everyone get out,” Louis orders, not looking away from Harry, his hands settling on his cheeks as the younger boy shakes, arms wrapped tight around his middle. The other boys and crew members don’t argue with him, not now, not with Harry like this, and quickly evacuate the bathroom. “And someone get his goddamned inhaler!” An edge of panic creeps into Louis’ voice, fueled by the paleness of Harry’s face, the tear tracks running down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut. Louis tilts his face up slightly as Harry struggles to suck in a shallow breath. 

“Hey,” Louis murmurs, voice soft in the way it only gets with Harry, “just look at me. Breathe.” And Harry tries, he really does. “Focus on my voice Hazza.” Louis drops a hand to Harry’s chest, resting directly over his rabbiting heart. “Take a deep breath on five ok? Try and raise my hand.” Harry just manages a weak, jerky nod, but that’s enough. 

“One…” Harry sucks in a sharp gasp. “Two… three…” his inhale is slower now, steadier. “Four…” Harry just whimpers, shaking his head. “Five.” He finally opens his eyes, clouded emerald meeting determined cerulean. “Now let it out on five,” Louis orders. Harry does as he’s told, slowly letting out the air. He hasn’t stopped shaking, his fingers gripping his waist so hard Louis won’t be surprised if there's marks later. But his eyes are open now, so Louis considers that a win. 

Then Liam comes running in, red inhaler in hand. He shoves it toward Harry, moves jerky and frantic in his panic. Harry flinches away, eyes shutting again as he closes himself off. Louis takes the inhaler from Liam with the hand not on Harry’s cheek, nodding for Liam to give them some space. He listens, leaving the bathroom with a pained expression. Louis refocuses on Harry. He can actually see the boy spiraling as he curls further in on himself.

“Hazza,” Louis coaxes. Harry raises his head at his voice. “Y’gotta use the inhaler, love. Please, I need you to breathe. Please.” Harry manages another jerky nod, and Louis’ heartstrings tug at the absolute and complete faith Harry has in him, even in this state.  _ Especially _ in this state. He can’t help the grateful sigh of relief when Harry takes the inhaler with a trembling hand, reveling in the way Harry’s eyes fall closed and his face relaxes as the medicine works its way into his lungs. He takes a few puffs before removing it, looking at Louis once again. 

His eyes are clearer now, the haze of hysteria gone, replaced with sharp anxiety. But he’s breathing, however shaky those breaths may be. He looks more alert, aware. Louis, unable to stop himself, surges forward, arms wrapping around Harry’s trembling body, hands clutching desperately at the fabric of his shirt. Harry melts into him instantly, arms winding gently around Louis’ waist as he tucks his head into the nook where his shoulder meets his neck. Harry nuzzles lightly at Louis’ collarbone and the older boy lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in a sigh of relief. 

“You fucking scared me,” Louis whispers. The pair are entirely lost in their own world, aware of nothing outside of themselves and the tight embrace of the other. 

“‘M sorry,” Harry croaks, voice rough. “Dunno what happened.” That’s a load of bullshit and they both know it. But Louis doesn’t say that, not now.

“We’ll talk about  _ that _ later,” he murmurs, not wanting to pressure Harry while he’s still in such a fragile state. “We should probably go, Haz.” Harry nods and reluctantly pulls himself from Louis’ embrace, sniffling and wiping away the tears as Louis helps Harry to his feet, the curly-haired lad still shaking slightly. Carefully, tentatively, the other boys walk toward the pair as they emerge from the bathroom.

“Y’alright Haz?” Niall asks cautiously. Harry manages a weak smile.

“Yeah. Just- um- had a little trouble like, breathing,” Harry mumbles, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that asthma’s a real bitch,” Zayn grumbles, earning a real grin from Harry. Louis keeps one arm around Harry’s waist, the younger still leaning against him heavily, as they make their way through the halls. Crew members stare, but quickly avert their gazes when Louis fixes them with a glare. Then Paul is there, along with a couple other bodyguards, herding the boys out the back entrance and into the waiting cars. Louis and Harry stay attached at the hip, holding on to the other the entire time. 

Harry tucks himself into Louis’ side, eyes closed for the entire car ride to the hotel. No one says a word, Harry’s breath still hitching now and then but steady and even for the most part. 

“You guys want us to come to yours or give you some time?” Liam asks gently as they all step off the lift. Louis answers for them both after seeing the conflicted look on Harry’s face.

“Give us a little while, yeah? Maybe twenty minutes and then you can all come join us for a film,” Louis suggests. The other boys nod, understanding the pair’s need for space to talk. So, with gentle shoulder squeezes and promises to come in a bit, they all depart their separate ways.

Harry doesn’t say anything until they’re in their room, Harry curled into Louis’ side on their couch as the older boy runs his fingers through his chocolate curls. They sit there, just enjoying the comfort of each other for several minutes.

“You have to stop letting it build up like that, Harry,” Louis whispers gently, breaking the silence. Harry sighs, sitting up slightly to look at him. 

“I know,” he admits, playing with Louis’ fingers, interlaced with his own. “I don’t mean to let it.”

“Y’gotta talk to me when you start feeling like that,” Louis continues to chastise, not unkindly. His voice is soft and concerned, not a trace of anger in his words.

“I’m sorry.”

“I just- I want to  _ help _ , Haz.” Tears prick Louis’ eyes, making his words thick. Harry looks up right as the first tear slips down his cheek. Louis doesn’t look in his eyes, focusing instead on where his thumb strokes across Harry’s cheek, down his face, across his jawbone. “I hate seeing you in pain. I hate not being able to do anything.” Louis clenches his jaw, trying to hold back his tears as he meets Harry’s eyes. “I love you,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word as more tears track down his face.

“Oh  _ Lou _ ,” Harry sighs, taking the older boy’s face in his hands. “You  _ do _ help. Just by being there, you help. By loving me. I’ll get better at this- at not letting it fester so long. Please, please baby don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.” Harry leans forward, kissing the tears off of Louis’ cheeks as Louis’ hands drop to his waist, tightening their hold there. 

“I love you,” Louis whispers, the words almost reverent, just for Harry.

“I love you too,” Harry murmurs, resting his forehead against Louis’. “More than I can possibly say.”

“Good.” Louis tilts in for a quick kiss, Harry grinning against his lips. And then there’s a knock at their door, a cautious irish voice asking if it’s safe to come in. Harry giggles as Louis groans about their horrid timing, but calls them in anyway. 

“Haz! Y’feelin alright mate?” Niall immediately bounds over and jumps into the spot right next to Harry, slinging one arm around the curly-haired boy’s shoulder, bag of chips in hand. 

“Better now,” Harry assures them as Zayn settles in beside Louis, Liam plopping to the ground by their feet with a quiet grumble. Niall nods, accepting that answer happily. Then they’re turning on some stupid movie and laughing brightly as Harry cuddles into Louis’ side, Louis squeezing his hand and pressing a kiss to his hair. And this. This is enough. This is perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love doing these, send any and all requests and i'll do my best to fulfill them!!!


End file.
